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From a photograph hy J. A. Brnsh, Minnenpolifi, Minn. 
FRECKLES AND TAN 



Freckles and Tan 

^ ^ooli of |)timat0ttfl; Serete 



By 
ROWLAND C. BOWMAN 

With Illustrations by 
FANNY Y. CORY 



RAND, McNALLY & COMPANY 
Chicago New York London 



HBRfiRY f^i CONGRESS 
Two Oooie? Received 

JUL 2i 1904 

Coo.vrlg'ht Entry 
6la^ O^ XXc. No. 
' COPY B 1 



Copyright y igoo 
By Rowland C. Bowman 



Copyright y igo4 
By Byrtha Louise Bowman 



35 



o3 






To 
My Mother 



The Table of Contents 

PAGE 

Freckles and Tan 7 

If I Were a Little Boy Again ....*. 8 

The Peppermint Candy Heart ii 

An Ode to the Hairbrush 14 

To the Stone Bruise 16 

Going Visiting with Ma 18 

Wash Your Feet 21 

Waiting for the Second Table 25 

Our Old Ma-Cat 28 

A Domestic Strike 30 

Asleep in Church 31 

The Father of Waters 35 

How to Make a Loaf of Bread 37 

Boyhood's Happy Hours 4° 

An Essay on the June Bug 42 

On Smoking 43 

The Chip 45 

Halloween 47 

The Bat and the Owl 49 

Little Billy Hood 5° 

Baby Sweetheart 53 

Chub Kimberley 55 

The Pup Dog's Opinion of the Quick- 

Tempered Man 62 

Rootin' for the Peg 64 

A Stormy Night 68 



Freckles and Tan 



FRECKLES AND TAN 

Say, what are the wee Httle freckles, 
And what in the world is the tan, 

That color and sprinkle all over 
The face of our dear little man? 

The tan is a heavenly mixture 
Of happiness, sunshine, and joy. 

That darkens the shade of the roses 
That bloom in the cheeks of our boy. 

The freckles are scars from the kisses 
That angels, in loving embrace. 

Have pressed, in a careless confusion, 
All over our little boy's face. 

So, here's to the boy with the freckles, 
The boy with the freckles and tan ! 

These glorious imprints of heaven 
Have labeled him, God's Little Man. 




IF I WERE A LITTLE BOY AGAIN 



If I were a little boy again, 

I tell you what I 'd do ; 
I 'd harness up my dog some day 

And ride around for you. 
I 'd let your little sister drive, 

While I'd sit in behind; 
With you tucked in the middle, 

We'd himt around and find 
The Land of Chocolate Caramels, on 

The Sea of Lemonade, 
And there we 'd dig for custard with 

A little candy spade. 
8 



Freckles and Tan 



If I were a little boy again, 

I'd build a ship for you; 
I 'd build it out of sassafras 

And have a jolly crew, 
By making you the captain bold. 

With sister as your mate. 
The dog would be the cabin boy 

To keep our baggage straight. 
And I? I'd be the cook. (You see 

To sail without a cook. 
Is just about as foolish as 

To fish without a hook.) 
We'd launch the ship upon the sea 

And sail far, far away. 
To find the Isle of Butterscotch 

In Honeysuckle Bay. 
We'd land upon the island in 

Some quiet, shady spot, 
And build a summer cottage 

Near the Brook of Soda Pop. 
We'd build a summer cottage out 

Of ginger snaps and gums. 
And live on cracker jack and cake 

And cocoanuts and plums. 



lo Freckles and Tan 

And there we'd dwell forevermore, 

Forever and a day, 
On our little candy island, back 

In Honeysuckle Bay. 




THE PEPPERMINT CANDY HEART 

Dorothy Baby Love knew a boy, 

A little boy over the way, 
A cute little fellow, with curly head, 

Who smiled on Dorothy May. 



And Dorothy Baby Love smiled on him, 
It was really the thing to do; 

I guess you'd smile on a little boy, 
If a little boy smiled on you. 



12 Freckles and Tan 

And so, by and by, my Baby Love, 
Whenever she went to play. 

Would look all round, until she found 
This little boy over the way. 

And, of course, in time he won her heart, 
This little boy over the way; 

He won the heart of my Baby Love, 
My sweet little Dorothy May. 

He won a peppermint candy heart. 
With a motto in pink and blue ; 

A motto in pink and blue that read, 
''My Sweetheart, I Love You." 

A colored peppermint candy heart. 
That horrid boy over the way 

Stole with a crafty, deceitful art 
From poor little Dorothy May. 

But that isn 't all, — my goodness, no ! 

I '11 tell you the dreadfulest part. 
This bad, bad bo}^ hid up in the hay 

And swallowed the peppermint heart; 



Freckles and Tan 13 

Yes, ate tip the heart that Dorothy May 
Gave to that little scamp over the way ! 

Poor little Baby Love, Dorothy May ! 
Fie, fie, on the villain across the way! 




AN ODE TO THE HAIRBRUSH 

As you lie there on the bureau, 

With your bleached and bristled hair, 
In that melancholy manner, 

With your cold and haughty air, 
Brush, I find I'm wont to wonder, 

Speculate, and figure out 
Why such fiendish tools of torture 

Are allowed to lie about. 
Causing heartaches, yea, and sadness, 

Causing tears to freely flow, — 
Why are you allowed to prosper, 

Generating grief and woe? 



0, the pains and pangs you Ve caused me ! 
O, the sadness you have wrought! 



14 



Freckles and Tan 15 

Brush ! your imprints on my person 
Hurt me at the very thought. 

Tell me, Brush, O, clear, good Brushie, 
Tell me just one little thing ; 

Tell me, great and noble Hairbrush, 
Tell me, please, where is thy sting? 

When the world is bright and happy, 

When my youthful soul is gay, 
When my heart is glad and cheerful, 

When I choose to run away 
With the boys and go in swimming ' 

In the mill pond down the lot, 
You bob up, you fiendish Hairbrush, 

With my parent waxing hot. 

Then a woe swoops down upon me 

With a wild and fearful rush, 
And the pain of pains steals o'er me,— 

Yea, I 'm up against the Brush. 
Deliver me, O, goodness! 

From this fierce domestic storm! 
Save, O, save me from the Hairbrush, 

And the parent waxing warm ! 



t6 



Freckles and Tan 



TO THE STONE BRUISE 

O, you turbulent sensation, 
Triple extract of emotion 
And reiterated torture, 
Shooting through my metatarsus! 
What a fierce, incessant thumping. 
What a harsh and raspy bumping 




Freckles and Tan 17 

Of a torment, never ceasing, 
Never ceasing, but increasing! 
Yea, increasing to a fearful 
Tantalizing, mocking fury! 
Potentate of irritation, 
King of pain and agitation. 
How in thunder can we cure you? 
How does mortal man endure you? 
All the remedies invented 
Couldn't even have prevented 
This detestable disaster! 
Why this sticky flaxseed plaster? 
Worthless, weak, insipid poultice, 
You're unto this fiendish stone bruise 
As the snowdrop, pale and placid, 
Is unto sulphuric acid. 

Leave me, fruitless flaxseed plaster; 

Leave me to my cruel master ; 

Leave me to my penal woe. 
Ouch! O, golly! O! O!! 01!! 



mm 



jp^ipl '< i^ 




GOING VISITING WITH MA 

Going visiting with ma : 

What a cheerful recollection 
Lies imbedded in the thought; 

What a vast amount of elevating 
Knowledge one is taught! 

O, the interesting learning 
One is able to detect; 

O, what weighty wads of wisdom 
Settle on the intellect; 

What a perfect understanding 
Doth inoculate the brain, 

When it ' s learned that yam will average 

i8 



Freckles and Tan 19 

Ten full knots to every skein; 

What an undisturbed attention 
One endeavors to employ, 

What an all-absorbing interest 
Takes possession of a boy, 

When he overhears that ruffles 
Should be quartered off and shirred ; 

And to cut them on the bias, 
And to gather in a third. 

And to mind and shrink the haircloth. 
And to iron out the waist, 

And to frill and flounce and fluff it, 
And to hem and stitch and baste, — 

O, how soothing to his feelings. 
When his cerebrum is graced 

With this awe-inspiring, rapid 
Evolution of his taste; 

What a sense of satisfaction 
Buds and blossoms from the news. 

That a certain Mrs. Hager 
Has a hat like Mrs. Hughes', 

And that Mrs. Norval Benson 
Doesn't speak to Mrs. Wright; 

What an overflowing fountain 



20 Freckles and Tan 

Of perpetual delight, 

What an opalescent atmosphere 
Of intellectual light 

Illuminates his being 
With an overwhelming might, 

What a sense of bliss and freedom. 
What a sense of perfect joy. 

Comes and soothes the nervous system 
Of the young and restless boy, 

When he's visiting with ma. 



Freckles and Tan 



21 



WASH YOUR FEET 

When daisies blossom in the lane 

Somewhere about the middle of May, 
And birds sing out a glad refrain 

Of greeting to the coming day; 
When skies are hung in deepest blue; 

When breezes seem a heaven's breath, 
And everything is glad and new, 

When life and love have conquered death, 
Our boy unto his 

ma will say, 
" Can I leave off my 

boots to-day?" 
She says, "My little 
son, you may; 
But mind," the mother 
will repeat, 
As lovingly she pats .• ^ \. w \ iJ'^^^hw jj 
his head, 
"You'll not forget to • . v '■•.'W ^' " -^i 
wash your feet 
Before you go to bed. ' 




2 2 Freckles and Tan 

Then, 0, the wild, ecstatic bliss, 
The magnified, exquisite joy! 
The princely, priceless happiness 
Of this iinerring, mindful boy, 
As in the road he'll imitate 

A "local freight" or "fast express" 
With such a giddy, gliding gait 
Of dizzy, romping recklessness. 

Ah, Woo-oo! Woo- woo! Ding-dong! 

Ding-dong ! 
Choo-choo! Choo-choo! Pling-plong! 

Pling-plong ! 
So runs the howling boy along. 

Then mother calls : * ' My angel sweet 
Must surely mind what mother said, 

And not forget to wash his feet 
Before he goes to bed." 

He madly rushes here and there, 

From barnyard to some quiet nook. 

From marsh to meadow, — everywhere, 
From orchard to the shaded brook. 



Freckles and Tan 23 

He sails along in fierce delight, 

And runs and plays and tears about, 
Until the fast approaching night 
Will find our boy all tired out ; 
A blissful tired out that feels 
Like angels tugging at his heels. 

He stumbles to his room and kneels 
And clasps his hands and bows his head, 
And says his prayers and falls asleep, — 
Forgets, of course, to wash his feet 
Before he goes to bed. 

And, 0, that sweet angelic sleep 

Of peace and calm content and rest; 
That sleep so silent and so deep! 

A boy asleep is truly blessed. 
And dreams? He dreams of purple skies, 

And Pixies waltzing to and iro 
With humming-birds and butterflies; 

How silently they come and go! 

A voice that heralds dreadful woe 
Comes stealing in like winter's sleet. 



24 Freckles and Tan 

'Tis mother's voice from overhead: 
** Get out of there and wash your feet! 
Come, now; you'll soil the bed." 



O, Morpheus! We pray unbend: 

Release our drowsy, indiscreet, 
And sleepy boy. He did intend. 

We know he did, to wash his feet. 
Why hold him fast in torment so ? 

Why make him stagger, reach, and grope, 
Why make him stub and bump his toe ; 

Why hide the washpan, towel, and soap ? 
O, great and mighty god of sleep. 

Take off your mystic, magic chain 
And leave him. Let him wash his feet. 

Why clog his clouded, sluggish brain ; 

He just forgot. He's not to blame. 
Call off your torment, grief, and pain ; 

Call off that dull, distressing dread: 
There's time enough to come again 

When he gets back to bed. 



Freckles and Tan 



25 



WAITING FOR THE SECOND TABLE 

Waiting for the second table ! 

How we gaze up at the ceiHng 
Like a lot of wooden dummies; 

What a gone and absent feeling. 
Comes and harbors in our "tummies"! 

How we wait and watch and worry, 
In a morbid speculation 

At the total lack of hurry 
In our visiting relation. 

Gracious! how debilitating 




26 , Freckles and Tan 

To the juveniles in waiting, 
Waiting for the second table ! 

Waiting for the second table, 

When the atmosphere is murky 
With the molecules that migrate 

From the cranberries and turkey. 
How our nostrils spread and dilate. 

How the gastric nerve doth quiver, 
How our hopes are overpowered. 

When our grandpa eats the liver, 
And the wishbone is devoured ! 

Goodness me ! How nauseating 
To the juveniles in waiting, 

Waiting for the second table! 

Waiting for the second table, 

Waiting for the baked potatoes. 
Waiting for the cabbage salad, 

Hubbard squash and stewed tomatoes! 
Pumpkin pie and apple fritter! 

Mercy! ain't it simply awful. 
Ain't it gruesome, sad, and bitter, 

When the victuals all have vanished, 



Freckles and Tan 27 

And we young ones, weak and weary, 
Sick at heart and fairly famished. 

Are invited to that dreary. 
Dreadful scene of devastation. 

To the commissary station, 

To that wrecked and rifled table. 

To that barren second table! 




OUR OLD MA-CAT 



Our old ma-cat has been with us 

For nearly seven years ; 
Her fur is short and frowsy, 

And there's nicks in both her ears. 
But she 's one of our family, 

And she'll stay here night and day, 
'Till death comes in and claims her; 

Then she'll be laid away. 



Our old ma-cat has got a way 
Of jumping on the bed, 



28 



Freckles and Tan 29 

When Bub and I are sleeping; 

And she takes and rubs her head 
Along our nose, down round our ear, 

Bump! up against our chin, 
And then she'll sneeze, and purr and purr. 

And then she'll sneeze ag'in. 

Our old ma-cat has got a way 

Of lying in your lap, 
Pretending like she's just about 

To take a quiet nap. 
She'll spread her paws and grip your clothes 

And pull like Sunday sin. 
And sometimes when she grips your clothes 

She also grips your skin. 

Our old ma-cat has got a way- 

Of keeping out of sight ; 
For days and days she can't be found, 

But she comes back all right, 
And brings along the blamedest bunch 

Of weenty-teenty brats. 
That by and by turn out to be 

A lot of little cats. 




1^; isri\ 

A DOMESTIC STRIKE 

If ma ever becomes a new woman, 
Just then ma and I will play quit; 

I 'm willing to wear out my father 's, 
'Cause they are some sort of a fit. 

But, by the gee-wolliker-gimminy-whew, 
If I 'm to wear out my mother 's too, 

I'll kick up a howling hull-a-baloo ; 
I won't wear ma's, 

I'll be blamed if I do. 
30 




ASLEEP IN CHURCH 



O, that melancholy morning, 

Sunday morning back in June, 
When the song-birds in the meadow 

Seem to warble out of tune, 
When our boy is bound and fettered 

In his go-to-meetin ' clothes, 
And the world is full of torment. 

Full of irritating woes, 

3 



32 Freckles and Tan 

As to church he slowly trudges, 
With his mother by his side, 

Tortured by a standing collar, 
Squeaky shoes and broken pride. 

Seated in the pew he listens. 

Listens as he yawns and sighs; 
Finds a rubber in his pocket. 

So he starts to snapping flies. 
Plays the flies are "Spanish privates," 

Plays the rubber is a gun, 
Plays that he 's a gallant hero, 

Killing "dagos" one by one 
Plays until a drowsy, quiet, 

Heavy feeling, dull and deep, 
Softly comes, and slowly, slowly. 

Nods our little boy to sleep. 
Then a mixed and troubled vision 

Flits across his sleepy brain, 
As the voices of the choir 

Die away in sad refrain. 

Then he dreams he's on the bleachers, 
Taking in a game of ball, 



Freckles and Tan 2)3) 

Sees the preacher in the diamond 

Coaching. Hear him, hear him call: 
"Go, it, Fatty! Hump, you tiger! 

Dig in, Fa-a-a-t ! You Ve got to sli-ide ! 
Thou art lost, ye mortal sinner! 

Who's to bat?" the preacher cried. 
Here he comes ; it 's Shorty Hitchcock — 

"Strike a-one! Oh, that's too bad! 
Foul-1-1 ball! Now take it easy! 

Bump her. Shorty! You're the lad!" 
Shorty Hitchcock makes a single. 

Slides to second on a muff. 
Now, then, little Spot Maloney 

Hands the ball a dinky cuff; 
Just enough to carry Shorty 

On to third. "A sacrifice," 
Cries the preacher, "is a virtue, 

Selfishness a horrid vice; 
Give and you'll receive a blessing. 

Take and — Shorty, that's enough! 
Watch 'em. Shorty! Keep 'em guessing! 

Look out ! Hold it! That 's the stuff !' ' 
Now the gentlemanly usher 

With a polka-dot cravat, 



34 Freckles and Tan 

Takes a little wicker basket, 

Velvet lined, and goes to bat. 
"Steady now," the preacher whispers; 

"Easy ! Lift her ! That 's immense !" 
High the usher sends the "leather" 

Clear beyond the center fence ; 
Then he starts to running bases, 

Selling peanuts on the way; 
Makes about a hundred tallies, 

Wins the game and saves the day. 

Now the people in the grand stand 

Rise and sing in glad acclaim. 
Sing aloud to heaven's glory. 

Sing with all their might and main : 
''When I tread the verge of Jordan, 

Bid my anxious fears subside, 
Death of death and hell's destruction, 

Land me safe on Canaan's side.'' 
Then our boy wakes up and stretches, 

Yawns and blinks and looks about. 
Listens to the benediction, — 

Thanks to goodness church is out! 



Freckles and Tan 35 



THE FATHER OF WATERS 

Pa-of -Waters : How I love you, 
With your lapping sides that dip 
'Round the bullrush and the lily. 
How I simply love to sit 
On your banks, O, Pa-of -Waters, 
While the sun is sitting down. 

How I love to muse the moment. 
While away the weary while ; 
Loll around and lie here dormant, 
While the sun is sitting down. 

Pa-of -Waters : Can't you fix it 
So that I can always stay 
On your banks and watch the fading 
Of the day and draw my pay; 
Half asleep, just flipping pebbles, 
Sun forever sitting down? 



36 Freckles and Tan 

If you can't I'll muse the moment, 
While away the weary while ; 
Loll around and lie here dormant, 
'Till the sun is clear set down — 
Then Fit go home. 



Freckles and Tan 37 



HOW TO MAKE A LOAF OF BREAD 

Our ma has gone out in the country; 

We're left all alone (what a pity!), 
With nothing to do but to ponder 

And read aloud to the kitty. 
We run out of bread in the morning; 

But, knowing 'tis easy to make it, 
My father adjourns to the kitchen 

And silently starts in to bake it. 

The Recipe 

Take two coffee cups full of flour, 

With water sufficient to "dough" it, 
A thimble of salt for the ''season," 

Now roll it and poke it and blow it. 
And blow it and poke it and roll it, 

And pinch it and push it and flop it. 
And punch it and pound it and pull it. 

And monkey around till you drop it ; 
Then clean it off nice with a towel, 

And soak in a yeastcake to "raise" it; 



38 



Freckles and Tan 



Now drop in some soda to "short" it, 

And smear on some butter to "glaze" it; 
Place it 'way back in the oven 

(That is if you've molded and "set" it), 
Close up all the doors of the kitchen, 

Go in and sit down and forget it. 
Go sit yourself down in the parlor. 

And read from the "Science of Baking," 
Read on till you smell something burning, 

Then think of the bread you are making. 




Ereckles and Tan 39 



Now hop, skip, and jump to the kitchen, 

And, as you hop nigher and nigher. 
You know by the smoke in the hallway 

The blooming old bread is on fire. 
Now hustle it out in the alley, 

Juggle it, fumble it, shy it, 
Then gently dig up a nickel 

And go to the baker's and buy it. 



40 Freckles and Tan 



BOYHOOD'S HAPPY HOURS 

Down where the lily pads dip and slumber, 

Down where the weeping willows grow, 
Down by the brook my fancy wanders, 
Laden with thoughts of long ago. 
O, those happy boyhood hours. 
Fragrant flowers! 

Back to the woodshed, back to the shingle. 

Back to the seat of my Sunday wear, 
Back to that soul-stirring, soothing tingle, 
That loosened my teeth and curled my hair. 
O, those happy boyhood hours. 
Fragrant flowers! 

Back to the meadow all sprinkled with daisies, 

Back to the shade of the apple tree, 
Back to the grove with its tangles and mazes, 
Sacred and dear to my memory. 
O, those happy boyhood hours, 
Fragrant flowers! 



Freckles and Tan 



41 



Back to the barnyard, mildewed and mossy, 

Back to the stall in the milking shed, 
Back to that blear-eyed, brindle bossy, 
Back to the bumps on my aching head. 
O, those happy boyhood hours, 
Fragrant flowers ! 




42 



Freckles and Tan 



AN ESSAY ON THE JUNE BUG 

The Jtine bug is a restless, careless beast, 

That tends to magnify the woe 

Of mortal man. Would they were all 

deceased ! 
But still, it might be well to show 
Our universe is wrought with nothing base, 
Without it serves a purpose in its place. 



Now take the June bug 
know 

When Jtme is drawing ^ 
near, 

Without this bug to 
flutter in our ear 

And bump us hiff! up- 
on our forehead, so ! 

I tell you it is nature 's 
way to show 

That June is here. 



How are we to 




Freckles and Tan 43 



ON SMOKING 

O, yes, I'll agree that a good cigar 

Just after a meal is great; 
Or even a pipe would do me at times, 

And I wouldn 't hesitate 
To light up a stogie when pipes are shy ; 

Or, if stogies are hard to get, 
Perhaps, for the sake of a smoke, I 'd up 

And tackle a cigarette. 

And yet, from the stogies to fine cigars. 
Clear back to the cheap cheroot, 

I can't for the life of me find a smoke 
That honestly seems to suit. 

So turn the world back to my youth again, 
And show me a place to hide ; 

Then give me a hunk of some good rattan 
And there is where I'll abide, 

And dream of dreams that glorify 
The soul in peaceful rest, 



44 



Freckles cmd Tan 



And fall asleep with forty-two 
Burnt matches on my chest. 



Let 's quaff the fumes so fragrant, 
Let's puff, and taste, and smell 

The sweet, inspiring virtues 
Of a cotton umberel. 





THE CHIP 



O, the chip ! 

The chip upon the shoulder 

Of the hero of the hour ! 

See him glower, 

See him glare, 

See him scowl with wicked joy 

On the other little boy! 

See the other little boy, 

What a sad and woeful picture, 

45 



46 Freckles and Tan 

What a picture of depression 

And despair! 

See him stare! 

See him bite his lower lip! 

See ! He hits the chip a clip. 

Then and there, 

See the air, 

How it 's filled with legs and language. 

Hats and hair ! 

I declare! 



Freckles and Tan 47 



HALLOWEEN 

This is the night when buzzards buzz, 
And the cuckoo coos — if he ever does — 
And the hzzards He round and Hz, 
And the boboHnks bob, if they're on to their 

''biz," 
And the night is HteraHy soused in ink. 
As you silently wait and watch and think. 
And blink and wink. 

Now take the cud 

Of a brindle cow, and wade in the mud 
'Way out in the marsh, and dig a hole 
With the shoulder blade of some poor soul 
That died a leper in Lim-Po-Kink. 
You bury the cud at half -past two, 
Lie flat on your back and take a chew 
Of garlic and glycerin and cloves; 
And close your eyes and wiggle your toes. 
And wish and wish till you're nearly dead. 
Then you wade back home and you crawl into 
bed. 



48 



Freckles and Tan 



And you wink and blink and you think some 

more, 
Of the leper who died on the far-off shore. 
You taste the garlic and see the cud, 
And fall asleep a-wading in mud, — 
And — your — wishes — will — all— come — true! 




Freckles and Tan 49 



THE BAT AND THE OWL 

"What is the moon?" 

Said the bat to the owl ; 

"Your judgment is usually right." 

"The moon?" said the owl, "the moon? 

Let me see ; — 
Why, the moon is a hole in the night." 

"You're so gay," said the bat, 

"And so smart, and all that, 

I wish you'd explain to me. 

Why a man'll chase after a stranger's hat, 

And chase it in fiendish glee, 

As the wind takes it kiting along the street, — 

Why is it, sir?" said he. 

The owl with a scowl, in a worried way. 

And a voice exceedingly low. 

Took a gulp at the lump in his throat and 

said, 
"I'm a son of a stork if I know." 



50 Freckles and Tan 



LITTLE BILLY HOOD 

Now my memory turns boy ward, 

Back, way back to Billy Hood, 
Back where duty used to bind me, 

To the buck-saw and the wood; 
Back, where Billy used to call me, 

From his yard across the way : 
"Hoo-oo! Hoo-oo! Hi, there, Fat-tee-ee ! 

Come on over here and play; 
Come on over here to our house, 

Bring your sling-shot and a club. 
There's a bullfrog in the cellar 

Sittin' underneath the tub." 
Then I'd holler back to Billy: 

" I 'd come over if I could. 
But I can 't come just at present, 

I must stay and buck the wood." 

Nearly every day I 'd hear him, 

Hear that little Billy Hood 
Call for me to come on over; 

But I had to buck the wood. 



Freckles and Tan 51 

Once I noticed that a carriage 

Stopped in front of Billy's door; 
From that day poor little Billy 

Never called me any more. 
Heard his mother say that maybe 

God could save him — God was good — 
God could save her little Billy, 

But the doctor never could. 

Then the sorrow fell upon us, 

And the mystery and gloom; 
And I fancied that an angel 

In the little darkened room, 
Whispered to me very softly, 

In a voice that seemed to say, 
'•Fatty, buck your wood to-morrow, 

Come on over here and play." 



Even now I hear him calling, 
Calling, calling, far away ; 

Calling from the porch of heaven: 
''Come on over here and play." 



52 



Freckles and Tan 



What an aggravating angel 

Is that httle Billy Hood. 
He knows just as well as I do, 

I 'd go over if I could ; 
He knows just as well as I do, 

He must know; it's understood, 
That I can't go just at present, 

I must stay and buck the wood. 




Freckles and Tan 



53 



BABY SWEETHEART 

Baby sweetheart says the night 
Is the day turned inside out ; 
Says the day is chunks of Hght, 
That the Lord spreads all about 
Over everything in sight. 

Says the moon is just the sun 
With the shine rubbed off a bit ; 







54 Freckles and Tan 

And the stars are, every one, 
(Mind you, I don't question it), 
Little baby moons for fun. 

Baby sweetheart says the sky 
Is the top o' nothing, where 
Angels live, and by and by. 
If we're good, we'll both be there, 
Sometime, maybe, she and I. 



Freckles and Tan 55 



CHUB KIMBERLEY 

Chub? 

Chub was a baby, 

A baby boy — 

Poor little Chub, 

Goin' on three; 

Ez bright a cub 

Ez God ever gin a soul to below. 

Why, him and me — 

Thickest old cronies ye ever see. 

Orphant ? 

No, sir! No, sir-ee-e! 

Chub was my boy. 

Chub Kimberley. 

Friends ? 

Well, I should say, 

Wisht you'd drapped round some time ago, 

A year or so back, 

Say 'long in May, 

An' watched us onct, 

An' seen the way 

The kid and me managed to chum 'er so. 



56 Freckles and Tan 

Chub was a mighty small lump, ye know, 

Too small to keep up in the field, 

Too slow. 

But I had a back. 

An ' Chub he had 

A pair o' legs 'at wa'n't so bad. 

So off we'd go, 

Hoein' the taters row by row, 

Feedin' the stock in the field below, 

Mendin' the fencin' round the pen, 

Chasin' a chipmunk now and then, 

Down to the barn and back again. 

Chub a yellin' like all git out, 

Me a skedaddlin' about, 

Try in' to ketch the pesky lout, 

Thro win' stones an' clods o' dirt, 

(Ripped a brand new gingham shirt), — 

Chipmunk ? 

Twan't even hurt. 

But Chub ; it tickled him to see, — 

Eh? Yes, you're right; it tickled me. 

Of course, you know, 

A lot o' times 

Chub couldn't go; 



Freckles and Tan 



57 



Such times ez when I had to break 
The medder strip across the lake. 
But Chub, he'd alius keep awake 
An' come to meet me. 
Then, ker-whack! 

He'd go, fust thing, up on my back. 
One night I come home rather late, 
Must be'n a trifle after eight. 




58 Freckles and Tan 

'Twas close to dusk, at any rate, 

An' Chub wa'n't there, 

Wa'n't anywhere 

'Round our usual meetin' place. 

I whistled onct or twict and sed, 

"Dad's little late; Chub's gone to bed." 

An' then I headed for the shed. 

Put up the bosses, spread their hay, 

Lit for the kitchen, shortest way, 

Fur I was hungry. I should say! 

Saw mother put tin' out the tub, — 

It looked like rain. "Hello, ol' Fub!" 

"Hello," sez she. "Hello! Where's Chub?" 

"Where's Chub," sez I; "aint he to bed?" 

"Why, no," sez she. 

"Why, no; why, he — 

He kissed me long ago, and sed 

He guessed he'd go to meet his dad." 

Poor little Chub. 

'T wa'n't much use to look at night, 
But look we did with all our might. 
She beat the left lane, I the right ; 
Clear down and back, four times we took 



Freckles and Tan 59 

The path 'at trailed 'long Cedar Brook, 
A-prayin' every step, to look 
For Chub. Poor little Chub! 
An' dark! Lord, you couldn't see 
Your hand afore your face ; I gee ! 
'Twas hell's own night for ma an' me. 

Next day the neighbors heard and came 
And j'ined the search with might and main; 
But all results was 'bout the same. 
Till old Chet Morton struck a spot 
Of busted grasses. "Like as not 
'Ere's where," Chet sed, "our Chub had sot." 
So right from there we took the trail, 
An' hugged her close an' found a nail — 
No place for nails — Chub dropped it. — Pale? 
Pale's a sheet; I 'gins to sweat. 
An' clinched my teeth an' follows Chet. 
"You wait," sed Chet, "we'll find him yet." 
On through the cut this side the mill, 
Down by the marsh beyant the hill, 
Wat chin' fur signs and keepin' still. 
Poor little Chub ! 



6o Freckles and Tan 

''He's put fur the lake," sed Chet. 

"He's crawled thro' here, see, thro' the bresh.'' 

Chet showed the broken twigs was fresh. 

I looked at ma an' mother she 

Just cried a bit an' looked at me. 

''Go on through, boys," I sed, "an' see." 

And so they crawled along the ground, 

And on the other side the mound. 

Close to the water's edge they found 

Chub's little footprints in the sand, 

P'intin' toward heaven, — 

You understand, 

P'intin' toward heaven, 

Six rods beyant. 

Six rods beyant. 

Cuddled all up in a bunch o' hay, 

Was my boy Chub, a-sleepin' away, 

As dirty as sin. But alive, and say! 

You should a' seen mother 

An' me 

An' Chet 

An' all o' the boys. 

'I gosh! I bet 



Freckles and Tan 6i 

You'd sed it was heaven 

We found that day, 

If you'd a' been there 

An' seen the way 

I bent my knees on that bunch o' hay 

An' blubbered and prayed, 

An' hung to Chub. 

An' Chub? 

Soon's he got loose, — 

Fust thing was he said was "boost!" 

"Boost, daddy, boost!" 

I gin him just one more good smack, 

Then, whoop ! he went up on my back. 

God bless our Chub. 



62 Freckles and Tan 



THE PUP DOG'S OPINION OF THE 
QUICK-TEMPERED MAN 

I'm a pup dog and I know it, 
And it's like as not I show it, 
For my nose is cold, and wrinkles 
Mar my beauty, sir, like fun ; 
And my hide is loose and wopsy, 
And my feet go flipsy-flopsy 
When I run. 

Yes, my bark is rather rusty 
And my tail is short and dusty. 
And a melancholy tincture 
Taints my spirit most the while ; 
But I'll work out my salvation 
Like the rest of all creation, — 
Work and smile. 

Yet I'd rather be a yeller 
Wopsy pup dog than the feller 
That, because he mashed his finger. 



Freckles and Tan 63 

Up and kicked me black and blue. 
Count in' all things in together, 
I would ever so much rather, 
Wouldn't you? 



64 Freckles and Tan 



ROOTIN' FOR THE PEG 

Mind the time when we were younger, 
When the world was free from care? 
Mind the game of knife, old fellow. 
Do you, pardner? — Put her there! 
Ah! the "nosins" and the "earins," 
And the "skip-the-ditch," and say, 
Mind the "rootin' "? Ah, the "rootin' 
Talk about the "deuce to pay"! 
When the game of knife was ended 
And we found that we were "it," 
And the grass was neatly parted, 
And the peg was cut and split, 
And the other tunks about us 
Took a whack apiece around. 
Till the peg was quickly driven 
In the solid, soddy ground. 
How they yelled and hollered at us 
In their efforts to perplex ; 
Ah, our "rootin' " was a credit, sir, 
A credit to the sex. 
And it goes without the saying. 



Freckles and Tan 65 

We were never known to beg, 
We might lose a tooth in trying, 
But we'd always fetch the peg. 

Ah, the peg! 

Good old peg! 

We might lose a tooth in trying, 

But we'd always fetch the peg. 

And, I say, do you remember, 
Friend, the tired-out that came. 
As a sort of benediction 
At the closing of the game ? 
Mind how mother used to call us 
As the day ran out of light, 
And the shadow arms of evening 
Stretched across the coming night? 
Could her voice be any plainer 
Were she calling us to-day. 
Saying, "Children, better come now; 
Getting pretty dark to play" ? 

Ah, how really interesting 

Was the good old game of knife, 



66 Freckles and Tan 

And how keenly it reminds us 
Of the sober game of Hfe. 

'Bout the same as back in boyhood, — 

Always "rootin' " for the peg; 

Hasn't changed a mite, I'm thinking, 

We must pull the peg or beg. 

Ah, the peg, peg, peg! 

It's a case of "root in'," fellows. 

Just an everlasting "root in' " for the peg. 

Still it's very interesting, 

This delightful game of life. 

Just imagine you are younger. 

And we're only playing knife. 

Pull the peg! 

Pull the peg, — that's what you're here for. 

If the market goes "agin" you, 

Buck the tighter, root the harder. 

Don't you know they're out to skin you? 

Pull the peg! 

But the time is coming, mind you, 
At the eve of mortal day. 



L.ofC. 



Freckles and Tan 



67 



He will call instead of mother, 
In the same child-loving way, 
Saying, ** Children, better come now; 
Getting pretty dark to play." 
Ah, the game, old friend, is ended, 
Let's go, pardner, what d' you say? 
P'r'aps we'll find in turning homeward, 
That the pegs have paved the way. 

Yes, the pegs we've pulled will help us 
With the pull we have with Him; 
And I'm willing, friend, to bet you 
We 've a chance of getting in, 
If we 've pulled the peg. 




68 Freckles and Tan 



A STORMY 'NIGHT 

A Little Boys Theory 

The lightning shouldn't scare you 
And make you fret and cry ; 

It's only God in heaven, 
Scratching matches on the sky. 

He wants to light the sun and so, 
He works and works away 

'Till afterwhile he gets it done, 
And then it's day ! 



